Cherish His Memory
by TenebrisCor
Summary: Vlad has died in a natural disaster of a storm, and now Danny has to live with his memory. One-shot.


As the wind rushed through my black locks of hair, caressing my damp skin, it was almost comforting. Almost. Looking up toward the grey sky, the clouds seem to echo my mood to perfection. Glancing down, I cannot help but ponder all that led up to this point. With soft tears gliding down my paler than normal skin, I sigh quietly. On this dreary day, my thoughts lay on one person. Vlad.

It had been two weeks since the accident. Two weeks since we had our last fight. Two weeks since I had smiled.

I should be happy. No longer will there be an ever lasting thorn in my side. No longer will there be a crazed lonely man in need of a cat chasing after my mom. No longer will he be there to kill my dad. I should be happy for these facts. But, I cannot find it in my heart to feel joy in the matter. For even though he was all of these things, he still was one thing that I will never be able to forget. He was the only person with the capability to understand me.

He was the only person would I ever could have turned to if my parents rejected me. If when I tell them my secret they decide I am no longer their son, there is no longer a plan B that was any hope of a good outcome.

Thoughts such as these plague my mind. They latch themselves to my consciousness as to burden my every waking moment. Even in my dreams they leave me without a discernible amount of peace. Why did Vlad have to die? Why was the universe hell bent on making my very being miserable.

sigh...

"Sweetie, are you ready to head back home?" My mom whispered gently at my silent and still form. Brushing the tears away from my eyes, I turn my head away and nod slowly. As the rain started to pick up, it seemed to be linked with my emotions, like when Vortex linked me to the weather. This thought brought a tug on my lips. That had been fun, Vlad had actually been made to do my every bidding for once. The small smile quickly vanished at this thought. Vlad...

No. I cannot let my mind wander. It is too dangerous. Despite my attempts to clear my mind of thoughts relating to.. him.. a new stream of tears were released from my eyes.

The car ride home in the RV was a silent one. Mom glanced into the rearview mirror every so often to get a glance of my, but I kept my eyes averted. I couldn't let her see me cry again. It had been happening all to often recently anyway. Watching the rain hit the car windows, I was reminded all too vividly of our car ride to the hospital 15 days back. It was nearly to this hour too, give or take a few minutes. As I close my eyes, head in one hand leaning up against the window, I release a long breath as the events replay in my minds eye.

Two Weeks Prior

School. The bane of my existence. Perhaps one day, when everyone knows who I am school will actually be a pleasurable experience where I am not picked on every hour of the godforsaken day. If only they knew what I was doing when I was not sleeping with my head on the desk. But, until that day comes I will have to put up with it.

Mr. Lancer headed the class speaking in a voice that much reminded me of teachers that you hear of in cartoons. They are making a sound, but you can never tell what they are saying. My eyes glazed over as I stared absently at the overenthusiastic teacher. He seemed to be saying something important. huh..

"MR. FENTON!" I shot up out of my seat, probably making it about six inches off of my chair. With the force that I had pushed my hands off with my desk had gone flying and I fell back in my chair when I landed back down. This of course got many stares and more than a few chuckles. Some even downright laughed, though I couldn't blame them. With a quick glare toward my friends, I paused. Usually when I made a fool of myself by zoning out, they would laugh laboriously at the embarrassment that would undoubtedly occur. This time however, they looked worried. At this I looked over to where Mr. Lancer was standing. His tone much calmer this time, he continued what he had apparently been trying to say. "Daniel, your parents are here to pick you up. Apparently there has been a family emergency."

* * *

Present

* * *

Still gazing out of the RV windows, I blinked my tears away. That day had started out like so many others. Ghost attacks, lack of sleep, being late to class, being beat up by Dash, it was all.. normal. It was a norm that had been established over the course of the past two years. Two years of ghost fighting. Two years of telling lies. Nearly two years of hating the fruit-loop. No. I have to stop thinking like that...

"Danny, we're home honey." Quickly I glanced over at her and my thoughts cleared momentarily. Everyone else was already out of the RV and heading back into the house. Opening the door, I walked slowly over to where the rest of my family was gathered just inside the front door. Jazz was staring at me again, looking into my eyes and catching them whenever she could. Two weeks she has been like this. Ever since we went to see Vlad in the hospital the first time. _Stop it. _

I had to get away from them. My composure was not going to last much longer. I had been getting better at holding back the tears, but they still were persistent. After all, it had only been two weeks.. two dreadfully long weeks..

"Mom, Dad, I am going upstairs for a while." I had to choke out the words, but I hoped that they came out strong enough. Jazz was not fooled however. She never is. I avoided her gaze as I made my way toward the stairs. It was more than likely fixed in her patented look of worry. It always was when she looked at me recently. For the past two weeks.

What poise I had cracked as I closed my bedroom door behind me. Sobs started to rack through my body as I slid down in a fetal position against the side of the door. Why couldn't he have saved himself during that storm? He should have been able to survive. He is Vlad for God's sake! The stupid fruit-loop should have gone intangible when that tree fell. But no, he had to get knocked unconscious. Stupid cheesehead! Stupid storm! Stupid EVERYTHING!

With my last thoughts, my sobs heaved harder and I looked with bleary vision toward my bed. Slowly, with muscles complaining from the cramped position I had just had myself in, I worked my way toward my bed. With a thump I landed unceremoniously onto the soft fabric of my comforter. If only the actual comfort it gave was more than physical. With a choppy sigh, my thoughts lead on in the same pattern they had from the past two long weeks. My eyes closed as I begged for sweet relief from this haunted existence for just a short while as my mind sank into unconsciousness.

* * *

Two Weeks Prior

* * *

From the protection of the RV, my Mom, Dad, and sister briskly walked into the hospital. My mind was numb, but my feet followed the example of those in front of me. Vlad. How was this possible..? Sure, the storm had taken out several homes with tree branches that had fallen, and several power lines had nearly caused electrocutions, but how.. why..

Things like this were not suppose to happen to people that you know. They always happen to someone else. Someone you have no attachment to. Someone who you can feel bad for five, perhaps ten, minutes about and then go about your day to day life. But it is accidents such as these that bring that cold hand of reality onto your shoulders. Perhaps even accompanied by a slap to the head and a punch to the stomach.

We were led to where he would be able to see him, if not only for a few moments. Doctors were rushing around, frantically prepping for a surgery that I figured would be taking place shortly. I absently wondered who was the unfortunate soul. Then it came crashing down. As I looked into the room where Vlad was being held, I couldn't withhold a gasp. He looked awful.. Scratched and scuffed, he looked like he had gotten into a fight with a badger. My eyes swept over his still form, and then stopped. My throat clenched and I held a stifled sob. Just left from the center of his chest was a branch protruding six inches at an angle.

* * *

Vlad is suppose to be unbeatable. He is suppose to be untouchable. I myself had gotten in my share of hits during our fights, but he had always come back. As much as it irritated me at the time. Now on the other hand.. I would give anything for him to come out of that emergency room without a mar.

We had been rushed out of the room after the brief two minutes that we had been in there. Apparently our getting in was only due to an oversight by the doctors that were running about. Though two minutes for me however felt like an eternity. Every one of those two seconds going by so slowly that if I had been on my right mind I might have thought Clockwork had purposely slowed down time just to torture me. And torture it was. Look at the man I had thought of as an enemy, even archenemy, for two years. Two YEARS I had looked into that man's eyes and even wished him dead. Wished him to the pits of Tartarus for all I cared. Now if I were to look into his eyes, all I would see is a man that had probably saved me more than once. Though at the time I would have looked past the out appearance and seen it as a step in a supposed evil plot. Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't. But sitting outside in this waiting room, staring at the white walls with eyes that refused to focus, I simply could not for the life of me think of that same man that I had looked at for the past two years as being evil. His means to an end were not right, certainly, but when it all came down to it, hadn't he only wanted to end his loneliness? I quickly shook my head of such nonsense. If he was lonely he should have gotten a cat. He didn't need to kill my father to marry my mother simply to cure his loneliness.

I sighed again, dropping my head into my hands. Who am I kidding? Trying to convince myself that he really was evil and therefore not worth worrying over was a lost cause. He was evil, true. There was no denying that fact. He found enjoyment in the pain of others. He was a sadist really. These thoughts merely sent nauseating waves of sorrow through my stomach. He had to make it through this. He had to. The fruit-loop had to live.

Tears burned my eyes as I looked forward once more.

The doctors had asked us to wait here until the surgery was finished and he was safely resting in the recovery room. They sounded certain that he would be there within an allotted amount of time and all we had to do was wait. Although if one was to pay close enough attention, or was able to pick up on such emotions, they would be able to detect a waver in that strong voice that told a different tale. The doctors were worried. Cases such as these were risky, and removing the protruding object could lead to a bleed out and eventual death due to blood loss. It was easy enough to tell from the wound that it would not be easy to fix.

As I looked over at my sister with tear filled eyes, I saw her staring at me with a look of shock and worry. She could not hope to understand. To her I was suppose not suppose to be acting as I was. To her Vlad was a creep and nothing more. Before this accident, I would have thought the same thing, but now I saw differently.

I cared for Vlad, its true. In battle I never cared if I shot at him with, what I considered, a powerful blast because I knew that he could take it. He would be back perhaps even the next day to make yet another taunt directed at my father. To make another backhanded remark concerning my supposed lack of skills. i could take out my frustrations on the man without worry that I would kill him. The thought never occurred to me that he could be killed, as strange as that sounds. Now, sitting in this waiting room waiting to see if he will make it out alive and with the very real possibility that he will not.. it was heart-rending.

For hours I sat in that state. My mind working slowly, I was barely conscious of my surroundings. Four hours we sat there. My parents would occasionally walk out to both stretch their legs and get something to eat. My Dad spent the most time out, probably looking for fudge.

It wasn't until the doctors came out of the room they had been occupying that I was snapped out of my stupor. I brushed my hands against my eyes clearing my vision. Staying seated, I looked up at the slowly approaching men. The room was filled with so much tension it was thick enough to cut with a knife. And cut it they did. Slowly and mercilessly. Those words will stay with me and haunt me forever.

"He didn't make it. We're sorry."

...

... Didn't make it?

...

... huh?

...

That couldn't be. That. COULDN'T. be.. it.. couldn't.. they wouldn't..

My eyes fell from their faces, realizing I had just been staring at them. My eyes fell forward in a dull glaze. Slowly, the words started to creep into my consciousness. As the seconds ticked, my mind was closed to the world around me. As the words seeped though my brain, my eyesight started to blur once again. Soon, the world was nothing but colors and shapes, if that, and the tears that blurred my vision started along the well marked paths previously created only to be quickly replaced.

No..

Vlad was...

...

My head suddenly snapped into my hands and I started to sob. It was the first time in I don't know how long I had cried so openly. Granted I was not aware of my surroundings, and I could have gone ghost for all I cared, but it was a feeling that sadly would become common for the next week. The wracking of ribs as my heaving figure moved with every new burst of breath, the feeling of utter sorrow and loss, and worst of all the guilt that pressed my very being. It is true what they say. You never appreciate what you have until it is gone.

If only..

Things could have been so different..

What if..

I could have tried to understand..

As my sobs continued, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was small and delicate, probably Jazz or Mom, but whoever it was had been trying to give comfort, and I was going to take them up on it. I turned slightly toward the figure who was attempting to soothe me and I put my head in the crook between their head and shoulder. As I did so, they drew closer and put their other hand around my other shoulder and held me close whispering into my ear and stroking the back of my head. My sobs continued for what felt like hours more, but as my breaths slowed, I was able to listen to what my comforter was saying.

"Shh.. its okay Danny.. everything is going to be okay.."

Okay.. are they serious? Everything is NOT going to be okay. Vlad is dead. He's.. dead..

My stomach clenched again and I felt a fresh sob growing in my throat. The continuous stream of tears continued to fall, and the continuous murmuring did not cease. Slowly I started to come back to awareness and looked up at Jazz who had, apparently, been the one to comfort me the last.. what was it.. 2 hours at least? I glanced over at the plain black and white clock on the wall across from me. It had only been 25 minutes.. seriously? When I looked back over to Jazz, I could see her smiling softly at me, obviously hiding any and all hurt she was feeling in an attempt at making me come out of the shell that I had formed over the past four and a half hours. I tried a smile, but it only came out as a grimace. I was in no mood for any form of cheeriness, and it showed. I'm sure that I was sending off waves of emotion, but I could care less.

* * *

The next few days went by in a blur. I didn't focus on anything. Going through the normal schedule I had developed, I simply existed. During that week I truly could not be called living. Floating from place to place, figuratively not literally, I did not even pay any heed to my friends. To find out what happened, they had to go to Jazz. All I could tell them was:

"Vlad... he's.."

And then I would stop suddenly, pull my head to my chest, and let out a sob. When I did this, I was shot looks of bewilderment. Never in these two years were the words 'Vlad' and 'crying' put in the same situation. When Vlad was brought up before it would usually be associated with anger and resentment.

It was only in the first week that my tears were seen in public however. After that, I would build up the tears, and the dam would break when I got home. That became the new pattern. The new norm. But I know that it cannot last forever. I need to get over this eventually.

* * *

As I lift out of unconsciousness, I realize that I had slept the afternoon and night away. Heaving a sigh, I roll out of bed. Glancing toward the window, the sun hits my face. Warm and beating, the rays dance across my room and fill every crack. For the first time in two weeks, a smile slips onto my face. Yes, it had been a long two weeks. Two weeks of feeling an ever present pain in my chest whether it be from sobbing, or from the scars that the doctors had left with their words.

Today however, I finally was feeling lighter. After all, I did learn a lot from the man. Perhaps I would no longer be able to feel the sting of pain as we went through the rounds with yet another one of his twisted 'lessons', but I still held the skill that he managed to hone through that torment.

As I glanced toward the sky, I grinned and transformed. Flying into the open space above me, I heaved one last sigh.

Yes, things were going to get better.

* * *

"He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man." -Antoine de Saint-Exupery

* * *

_A/N : I always wondered what would happen if something such as this were to happen to Vlad. Now I know. As I wrote this, emotions flowing with my fingers, and at times my fingers flowing because of my emotions, I was taken for a ride down a path that was unmarked. It is interesting what can happen when your fingers and imagination are left to their own devices. _

_Danny, who has so much going on already, having to deal with death? That is what can drive him to rash acts if it goes unchecked. As with all of us, when someone dies it can be a struggle, and perhaps there is no 'can' about the matter. I myself was quite young when I lost someone I was close to, so I am going off of feelings that are truly only imagined, so I hope that I was able to get across the emotions clearly._

_I would appreciate any reviews that you feel like sending off my way, and any comments are appreciated to the fullest. Now, at 12:26 in the morning, I am signing off. Have a pleasant morning/afternoon/evening whichever is appropriate for your situation._

_Thank you_

_-Tenebris-_


End file.
